South City, midsummer.

The Royal Court Hotel, twenty-seventh floor. In the Presidential Suite.

A young woman emerged from the elevator, treading lightly and with a small bag in her hand.

She was wearing a navy blue blouse, the v-neck design revealing her enviably delicate collarbone.

Her short, white skirt perfectly accentuated her slender figure and attractive long legs.

Her long black hair hung down to her waist, framing her exquisite oval face with arched eyebrows and eyes as clear as water. Her soft lips were formed into a cute little pout. She was graceful and gorgeous.

"That's it, room No. 8888."

Eve Mason looked up at the number of the suite, her beautiful eyes full of excitement.

She lifted her hand and pressed it against her chest, feeling the strong beating of her heart. "Dawson, I'm coming!" she thought to herself.

Ding-dong. The doorbell rang but there was no response from inside. She pressed the button again. There was no way she was giving up. Finally, a deep and rich man's voice came from inside. "Who is it?"

Although he had only said a few words, his voice was cold and his manner was imposing. His energy was not something that most ordinary people could bear.

Eve's eyes narrowed slightly. She put on a gruff male voice and said, "Sir, your takeout has arrived."

"I didn't order anything."

"Uh, it was your assistant who ordered it. The note here says that I must deliver it to you. I'm sorry sir, but I need to deliver another order after yours. If I don't complete this delivery I won't get paid."

There was only silence.

Eve stood at the door nervously twisting the straps of the bag in her hands, her eyes closed. "Come on... open the door, please!" she murmured.

About three minutes later, the door of the Presidential Suite opened.

"Dawson, welcome back!"

Eve instantly rushed towards the tall figure, but he was too quick for her.

Mercilessly he sidestepped out of the way, and Eve fell face-first to the ground with an embarrassing thud. It was just as well the floor was covered with a thick rug, otherwise she may have hurt her beautiful face.

The man standing at the door exuded charisma despite wearing only a white bath towel wrapped around his lower half.

Still lying on the ground, Eve looked up at the man in front of her. He was over 1.8 meters tall, with a body he clearly took great care of. The sight of his chiseled abs was enough to make her feel faint. But it was his face she couldn't stop thinking about. That flawless face. It wouldn't be too much to suggest that God had taken it upon himself to personally sculpt this man's facial features. He had thick eyebrows, a high nose, and attractive lips. His dark eyes were deep and penetrating, glowing with charm. Just one glance was enough to send anyone whirling into oblivion.

Dawson Belcamp was beyond handsome.

"Dawson."

Eve got up excitedly. Although she was still in pain from the fall, she was ready to pounce on him again.

Dawson frowned slightly and held out a hand against Eve's forehead, stopping her from coming closer as one might do to a child. Because of the differences between them in height and physical strength, all she could do was struggle hopelessly like a moth trying to reach a light behind a glass window.

"Dawson, stop it!"

She was a little irritated.

When she found out he had come back, she had skipped class to come here and see him. And yet here he was teasing her like she was a kid!

"Who told you that I was here?"

A hint of danger flashed in Dawson's sharp eyes. It seemed he might very well cut the informant into pieces.

"Put your hand down first."

"Are you sure you won't pounce on me?"

"I won't."

“...”

With Eve yielding, the stalemate finally ended.

Eve took a step back and, standing still, she looked up earnestly at Dawson. She hadn't seen him for three years. She would occasionally catch a glimpse of him in some finance magazine, but that was it.

And yet she had thought about him every day. She was completely infatuated with him.

That's right. It was a well-known fact that Eve Mason liked Dawson Belcamp, the Prince of South City and the future leader of the Belcamp Group.